Insomnia
by RueBroadway
Summary: Jet wants to visit an exclusive lounge. Zuko is confronted with his past lifestyle. Originally written for Jetko week over at LJ. Slash. AU. Jetko.
1. Insomnia

**Title: Insomnia  
Author: RueB****  
****Summary: Zuko moves to a new school, away from family and friends. He has insomnia and befriends his roommate, Jet. Can Jet help cure his insomnia?  
A/N: Cursing. Slash, but no boyxboy bed love. AU. Jetko.  
****Disclaimer: They aren't mine :o**

**--**

"Sir…_sir_…we are here, sir!" Zuko didn't know which snatched him out of his thoughts, the annoying cab driver, or the annoying cab driver's jerk to a stop.

"Sir, _sir_."

Digging in his pockets, he withdrew a wad of bills. Throwing the money at the driver, Zuko took hold of his single red case and exited the vehicle. He didn't wait for the change and the driver didn't offer it. Zuko didn't expect him to.

The stench hit him first. It was…intense. A mixture of garbage, exhaust and mold filled his nose. Next he noticed the sea of people. The sidewalk was full of pedestrians, a huge mass of individual movements. It was slightly overwhelming. The yellow cab dropped him in the middle and Zuko needed to get to the other side of it. The numbers 112 could barely be read against the dirty brick of the building. This is where he was going to spend the rest of his college career. A far cry from the Ivy League school he transferred from.

The movement of a carrier bike pushed him into the faceless crowd. Shoulders, elbows, torsos, and glares were coming at him from all directions. He could barley utter an apology before another body part of another person jarred him.

Finally he made in to the other side of the sidewalk. The brochure showed none of the chaos presented to Zuko. The university boasted of green malls and clean streets. He shook his head while making his way to the door, trying not to step on the broken glass and trash that littered the walkway. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and he was a beggar. After losing educational funding from his father, this was the best of the schools that would offer him a near free ride.

The busy noise of the street followed him into the building, but thankfully the crowd didn't. Standing in the lobby, Zuko was pleased to find it cleaner and brighter than its outside cover. Mixed matched couches and lounge chairs gave the area a cozy feel, so different from the city it resided in. Pulling out a slip of paper, he made his way to the counter.

"Hey man, what's up?" Zuko jerked in alarm. He hadn't realized the man was waiting on him.

"Uh- yes. My name is Zuko. I'm signing in." He answered quietly, slipping the paper to the loud man.

"Zuko, huh? You're a lucky guy Zuko." The man leaned over the counter motioning Zuko to lean in; which he timidly did. "Why?"

"Cause I'm one of your room mates." The man whispered conspiratorially. Zuko eyed him. "Why is that a secret?" he whispered back. The man straightened his back, eyebrows cocked in an I-can't-believe-you-are-asking kind of way. Zuko didn't know eyebrows could have so much…character? They had an incredible arch, almost disappearing into the frenzy of unruly brown strands that framed his face. His face was tan, almost as dark as his hair. His eyes were also brown. He was just a brown brown man.

"I'm like the best roommate you could have! Watch, all these people would be _jealous_if they knew you were rooming with me!" Zuko just nodded. _Great, I'm stuck with the weird one. _

"The name's Jet, Zuko."

Zuko nodded again and stood a bit awkwardly, shifting the red case from one hand to the other.

"So- can I get my key?"

Jet slid the slip of paper back to him as he came from the other side of the counter. Invading Zuko's personal space, he threw an arm around his shoulder.

"Sure thing! Aang, get your ass out here and do your job!"

Zuko stared at the too close face of Jet while simultaneously trying to shrug off the offending appendage. This guy didn't even work here?

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming." A bald kid came from the side wall Zuko didn't know was a door. Zuko's eyebrows rose. This Aang guy was covered in tattoos. The arrows, tribal symbols, and other inked portraits snaked up his arms into his fitted tee, out from the neck hole, up the neck onto his head. But his face looked young and his eyes innocent. The tattoos didn't match his seemingly friendly disposition. He was a walking oxymoron.

"Hey there! You must be Zuko. Welcome to Metropolis University. Did you have trouble finding the dorm?" He took the slip of paper from Zuko without missing a beat. "I know I did when I first got here. Where are you coming from? I heard from the UBU. _Man_that's a good school. Says here you'll be on the eighth floor, commonly known as the Ba Sing Se floor. I'm on that floor too. If you didn't know, this dorm is Earth Kingdom Territory." Zuko tried to take a breath for the kid. "I don't know where these names came from, but they're fun, dontcha think?" Aang slipped the card access key to Zuko. "I think your stuff is already here. Hey Jet, wanna show him his- uh- your room? You have fun now! When I'm off I'll come and see how you're doing. See ya later!"

Zuko watched the enigma walk back into the wall that was a door. That was the quickest, scariest, conversation he _didn't_ participate in that he'd ever been a part of.

"Man, I get high just talkin' to him! Can you believe he's majoring in aviation engineering?" Jet blared in Zuko's ear. "Come on; let's get you to your room." Zuko, being dragged by the arm around his shoulders, wondered if this was _really_ the school for him.

--

It was only seven in the evening, but Zuko was exhausted. Finally having a moment to himself, he laid on the freshly made bed. It smelled of cologne, compliments of Jet, who _insisted_, would cover the moldy smell of storage. Zuko didn't want to give that strange guy any sort of credit, but the scent wasn't bad and really _did_ clear the offending smell.

Zuko's first shock, after meeting Aang of course, was the elevators. They were old, really old. Old, like they were about to fall of their cables _old_. Jet warned him, arm now around his waist, to only use the first, third, and last elevators; and something about a conspiracy. Zuko wasn't really paying attention. Instead he chose to observe the other residents of the building. At least the brochure's claim of diversity was well deserved. If nothing else, this University was definitely a liberal arts school.

Stepping into their apartment was like stepping into a pig sty. Four bedroom doors surrounded the small kitchen and living space. Clothes, magazines, half eaten food and dirty dishes cluttered the floor and surfaces of the common area. The bright green and blue walls only added to the messy feel. Again, very different from the dark burgundy and stone walls of Universal Bender University.

The only clean space in the apartment was his room, and even that was cluttered with the boxes of belongings that arrived a week before he. His whole afternoon was spent organizing the pile into a livable space. His moved the bed under the double full length window, and moved the wooden desk next to the door.

According to Jet, the dorm used to be a hotel before the university bought it. All floor residents used common bathrooms, but the apartments were slightly larger than the usual. The university was much more lenient about decorating the rooms too. Apparently the previous resident had a fetish for red. Three of the four walls were cherry in color, and the wall with the window was grey.

Between cleaning and Jet, Zuko didn't have much time for his thoughts. But now, lying on the Jet smelling bed, he had nothing better to do than let his mind wander.

The reason for his transfer, his father, Mai, they all came rushing through him. Zuko turned on the bed and faced the window, staring out into the city. It was a good view, really. The red and white lights were becoming clearer as the evening turned into night. Metropolis was one huge East Coast city among many, he knew; but from the eighth story window, it looked to go on into forever. Mai didn't like many things, but he knew she'd like this. It was somewhere that was exciting, but she could get lost in the commotion. He missed her already, his one true friend, his faux girlfriend, Mai.

She was also the _only_one he knew would miss him. She was the only one who had known his secret and kept it close to her heart. He always worried that she would let it slip, but it wasn't her who got him into this mess. It was Zhao.

Zhao was his secret lover at UBU. A national frat boy, he was the golden child of the university. He was on the lacrosse team, majored in Financial Management, was the Vice President of the Student council, and Presidet of the UBU Business Associaion. Both were members of the prestigious Eta Epsilon Tau fraternity, Zhao a senior and Zuko a sophomore. He should have known to not get involved with him, but he was suave. Not gentle, not funny, but charismatic. Everyone wanted to be around him. Even his sister wanted him, and Azula wanted _no one_.

He couldn't pinpoint the beginning of their relationship. Was it when they kissed in the back of the library, or when they got together in one of their _tutoring_ sessions? What they shared, whatever it was, felt good. It made him feel wanted and loved. He knew it wasn't really _love_, but it was there and it was good.

He may not have known what to call it or what it was, but he knew when it was over. They got caught at one of their famous Tau parties. Both he and Zhao were a bit tipsy and more than a little horny- so they found what they _thought_ to be an inconspicuous location. It wasn't and one of their brothers found them, Zuko's arms and legs hooked around the older male, up against the wall.

The outcome wasn't pretty. Zhao, being the jerk that he was, told the ethics committee that Zuko seduced him with a roofy in his beer- and no one was going to question him. He was Zhao, and Zhao was a UBU God. Zuko, however, was expelled from the university, stripped of his Tau membership, and disowned by his father. The university did press charges (no evidence) but gave him a week to move out. When he arrived home his father had already thrown his stuff on the street. Within a day, he had to find a storage space, and a place to stay. By midnight he was on a flight to the east coast to live with his father's brother, Iroh.

The beginning of tears stung his eyes. Iroh had been so accommodating. His father and uncle were never on the best terms, especially after his mother's death, but he had been so willing to take Zuko under his wing. Iroh made the last couple of months bearable. He gave him a room, a job at his tea shop, and started collecting information on universities so Zuko could continue his education. Iroh, being the near hippie that he was, didn't mind Zuko's orientation. They hadn't spoken about it explicitly, but Iroh made sure he knew he was _always_welcome. It was with Iroh that Zuko began to question if his and his father's relationship was as normal as he thought. _Were all sons supposed to be afraid of their fathers?_

"Hey Zu! Let's go get something to eat! I'm starving." Jet's bounced on the bed next to Zuko, jarring him from his thoughts. Zuko should have been mad and a bit uncomfortable with Jets brazen entrance into his room and his personal space, but he couldn't. Iroh's open door policy had taken the edge off Zuko's need for privacy and Jet was just too strange to apply any _real_ sort of manners to. He was Jet, and that was his excuse.

"Where are we going?" Zuko asked, sitting up and facing his roommate. Jet's ever present smile slipped as his reached for his face. Fingers brushed against the moisture, revealing tears he didn't know he cried. Jet just stared at him, frowning slightly; eyes never leaving his.

Maybe Zuko had oversimplified this brown man. His eyes weren't just brown; they were a dark hazel, specks of green floated in and out of focus. His lips were fuller now that they weren't stretched in a smile. Sparse hair, the beginnings of a mustache, feathered his upper lip.

"Are you okay?" Jet asked, his voice the most gentle he'd heard that day. His fingers retouched his face. A familiar tingle settled itself in Zuko's belly and he jerked out of Jet's reach. It was that tingle that got him in trouble at UBU, and he wasn't going to fuck up his second chance.

"Where are we going?" He asked again, clearing his throat. Jet smiled. Not the usual one, a slick I-know-your-secret kind of smile.

"There is a great place around the corner that serves Island food. It's mostly spicy sweet stuff, but I swear it's really good!" Jet's answered, not as loud but with just as much enthusiasm.

"I don't think I've had Island food before."

"Never be afraid to try something new."

Jet grabbed his hand, "Let's go get Aang. I think he'd want to come too, yeah?"

Making their way down the hall, Zuko noticed Jet hadn't let go of his hand. But he also noticed in the crowed hall, that no one seemed to care. Aang made a face, but it was to Jet when he thought Zuko wasn't looking…and it was more a smirk than a nasty look.

So the sidewalks were always crowded and dirty, and the people were _different_, but maybe this _was_ the place for him. Mai always commented on how different he was from the others. Maybe this is what she meant?

--

Jet wasn't lying about the food. The restaurant was a hole in the wall with plastic chairs and tables. It was half carry out half delivery, but Zuko had never been so satisfied with a meal as he was with that. Curry chicken, they called it, with fried plantains? He couldn't quite remember. Jet ordered for him and his attention was divided between Aang and his roommate Sokka, and Zuko's own roommates Smellerbee and Longshot. He didn't ask about the names. It probably involved a story he'd wouldn't believe anyways.

Zuko stared out into the city from his window. It was quickly becoming a favorite past time of his. It had been a long day and he was exhausted. With a belly full of food and skin still hot from a surprisingly relaxing shower, he should be passed out. But he wasn't, and he wasn't going to try. He might get a good two hours of rest, but nothing more. Since the incident with Zhao, Zuko had been having real trouble falling asleep. It was only recently that he'd been able to get more than an hour. He hoped that all the excitement of today would force his body to rest, but it didn't look to be the case.

Sighing, he turned from the view and wandered into the common area of the apartment. Smeller, Long, and Jet were already asleep. He could hear Jet's snoring from behind his door, the one with dozens of pictures of his life posted all over it. Zuko smiled. He'd only known Jet for a day, but he had to admit the guy was comfortable to be around. Jet made things that were supposed to be annoying fun. Even his snoring wasn't bothering him; it was rather soothing.

Making his way into the kitchen, he dug into the sink cabinet until he found what he was looking for. His mates had plenty of cleaning supplies; they just obviously didn't use them. With a rag in one hand and soap in the other Zuko began the long process of turning the mold fest into a working kitchenette.

--

Zuko was up, _again_. Jet noticed there was something innately different about their new roommate the minute he walked into the lobby of their building. From the way he walked, to the tight ponytail, Jet knew he was out of his element. He barely smiled, barely talked, and barely wore anything other than dress shirts and jeans. Jet couldn't help but smile. He was taken by this stick-in-the-ass immediately. It was weird, because he didn't like stuck up frat guys, but he'd also snuck a look at Zuko's transcripts.

It was fucked up what UBU did to Zuko. Really, it should have been illegal. Being a criminal justice major, Jet had half a mind to sue the university himself. And that Zhao guy, what a prick. Jet could feel the rage bubble in his stomach. He'd known Zuko for three weeks now, and while the guy was a bit stand-offish, he was a gentle soul. He'd never drug another person for sex, it just wasn't him. Zuko hadn't said a word about the other university and Jet couldn't help but wonder if that situation was the reason for Zuko's insomnia. Jet nodded to himself. That had to be it.

Since the night his roomie moved in, he'd been cleaning, rearranging, and more cleaning all night- _every night_. Jet knew him, Smeller, and Long were messy, but it was getting ridiculous. How many times can a guy mop the floor? Jet hadn't even known they owned a mop…

He tried everything from partying, to late night study sessions, to watching really boring documentaries to help tire Zuko. Nothing had worked thus far, so he would try another approach.

Opening his door, he tried to imagine what Zuko had decided to clean tonight. Ah, he was reorganizing their large collection of DVD's. That was a new task.

"Hey, Zu-man, you still up?" Jet heard a snort from the other. He agreed. It was a stupid question with an obvious answer.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Zuko nodded once and joined Jet on the yellow couch. Chewing on a toothpick, Jet began, hoping the conversation would yield some results.

"Look, Zuko, you can't keep doing' this." Jet motioned to the overly clean apartment, "It can't be healthy."

"Jet, I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay." Jet shook his head violently.

"You're not _okay_. It's been three weeks and you haven't had a full night's sleep."

"Jet, I'm fine. It's none of your concern." Zuko warned. His voice had grown hard and Jet was getting a little peeved. Zuko was his roommate, it _was_ his concern.

"Look, I know what this is about. You need to let it go." Zuko's arms tightened across his chest, his eyes narrowed and nose flared.

"You don't know anything about me!"

"I read your file! I know why they kicked you out of UBU!" Zuko's eyes widened in disbelieve. Then he turned red. Forcing himself into a stand he pointed accusingly at Jet.

"You read my file? What the fuck! That's shit is confidential! Who the hell do you think you _are_?"

"Zuk-"

"No! You think you know who I am from a file? Did that file tell you my father kicked me out, left my shit on the street? Did it tell you that I don't have a cent to my name because I no longer have a father?"

"Zuko, I'm your-" Zuko jerked.

"Don't even say it. Don't you dare say it! Friends respect their friend's privacy. If I wanted you to know, I would have told you."

"You would have never told me!" Jet shouted over Zuko's ragging voice.

"Exactly!" Jet was almost stunned to silence-- almost.

"Zuko, I care! I just wanted to know who you were-"

"No, you wanted to know who the rich brat was that was moving in with you. I've heard you talking Jet. You hate _anyone_ with money; anyone with rich parents. And now you find out I'm different and what- you pity me? I don't need your pity. I'm not some sympathy case you learned about in class!"

"I didn't think-"

"No, you never think! Just- just stay away from me Jet. I don't even want to see your face."

"_Zuko_!"

He just walked away. Jet didn't know what to do. Where had the conversation gone wrong? He'd never seen Zuko so mad- so passionate. Jet's chest felt like it was going to cave in, it was so heavy. Tears tried to force their way from behind his eyes as he heard the front door slam closed. All he wanted to do was _help_, and now he might have lost something that could have been more than a friendship.

Jet slowly walked into his room. The yellow and orange walls mocked his disheartened emotions. _Was Zuko right?_ Long always told Jet that he acted without thinking, but his actions never hurt anyone before. He was _Jet_. People just laughed it off, or followed him, or just _accepted_ it.

Jet turned off the lights and lay on his bed. No, he wasn't wrong. Zuko was just being sensitive. He'd talk to him tomorrow. Everything would blow over like it usually did.

--

It had been three days. Three _long_, tension filled days. Jet hadn't realized how much time he'd spent with Zuko since he moved in. When they weren't in class, they were watching TV, or getting food, or Jet would just lie on Zuko's bed while he was studying, talking his ear off. He swore that Zuko wasn't really hearing him, but he put all the 'oh's' and 'ah's' in the right places so he didn't care. Now that they weren't speaking, Jet began to wonder what he did before Zuko was here. Whatever it was, it wasn't as entertaining.

Since their argument, Jet only saw Zuko once, and it was in the hallway of the Art building. They pretened not to see each other. Not that Jet was in any rush to have contact with the other boy. Anytime he was alone his mind would drift to their argument and a sense of dread would settle in his stomach. It was guilt.

During their argument, Jet claimed that he'd known Zuko. But if he really knew him, he wouldn't have admitted to Zuko that he'd violated his privacy. He knew how tight lipped Zuko was; he always held his cards close to his chest. Zuko only gave personal information when necessary. What made Jet think that he'd appreciate him going through files with such sensitive information? Jet buried his face in the cushions_. I am such an idiot_.

He didn't know how, but he needed to make this right. He knew Zuko was in his room, he heard the door squeak earlier while eating dinner. Jet wasn't one to linger on a problem once he found the solution. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to Zuko's room.

--

Jet didn't knock on the door, out of habit, but winced once he opened it. Think _before_ acting, he repeated to himself.

The lights were off, but the room was far from dark. The reds, yellows, and green lights of the city bled into the room, bouncing off the red walls. Zuko sat on his bed, back against the headboard, but he had obviously been looking out the window. His hair, usually gelled into a ponytail, was down. It flowed silkily into his face, covering most of his gaze in its shadow. The city lights reflected off his golden eyes, making them flicker like fire through the openings of hair. His eyes were slightly wide, of surprise or fear, Jet didn't know, but it gave him an almost innocent look.

Zuko's usually immaculate shirt was wrinkled and he'd missed the first button hole, leaving the shirt uneven. Jet shifted. This untailored Zuko was turning him on. He shook his head in near disgust. He was here to talk to Zuko, not jump him. But- he looked so…beautiful? Yeah, that was it; beautiful. He looked vulnerable. And Jet knew not just anyone saw Zuko in this state. Not that he'd invited Jet to see him like this, but Jet had been standing there for a good minute, and he had yet try to rearrange himself. He just sat there, legs bent at the knees, arms slack on either side of him.

"Hey." Jet croaked out. Zuko gave a single nod and turned his head back to the window. His face now fully lit by the window, Jet could see the dried track of tears. They were just a few. Zuko probably didn't even know they fell.

Jet made a move towards the bed. Zuko didn't react, and he took it as a good sign. Crawling to Zuko, between bent knees, he didn't stop until his fingers were tracing the crust of tears long gone. He heard Zuko's breathing quicken. His was still facing the window, but his eyes were on Jet.

"I'm sorry." Jet whispered. Was that Zuko's heartbeat that quickened, or was it his own? Zuko sighed, closing his eyes. He looked relieved. Jet's lips moved to trace what his fingers touched just a second ago, slowly making their way to the other boy's lips. He couldn't help it.

Zuko's reaction was instant. Hands dug into his hair as soon as his lips met Zuko's. Jet tasted sweetness on Zuko's tongue as it was shoved into his own mouth. He smirked into the kiss. He tasted sweet plantains, from the little island carry-out around the corner. Maybe Zuko missed Jet as much as he missed him.

"I'm sorry." Jet repeated against Zuko's lips. I know, was the raspy response.

"Forgive me?" Zuko nodded, their foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah."

--

Zuko was…content, if not a bit confused with what he was doing. Both he and Jet were lounging on his bed. Jet's arm encircled his shoulders, his fingers playing with Zuko's hair while Zuko's arm rested on Jet's bended knee. He was glad he took Mai's advice.

He called his friend the night before, after the bulk of his anger passed.

"You're so dramatic, Zu." was Mai's response after telling her what Jet did. Her voice was dry and monotone, but he could _hear_ the smirk through the phone. He tried to explain that Jet violated his privacy and couldn't be trusted.

"So he took a peak at your record. He's an idiot, but he's not _bad_." Well, he wasn't calling Jet bad, just-

"Zu, he sounds like he's just trying to help." But-

"If you look anything like you sound, you look like a tired whore." That _wasn't_ the _point_.

"Would you rather him not _care_?" She was twisting the situation.

"Okay, so he looked at your file. Wasn't it before you met?" Yes, but what-

"So, he probably does it with every new roommate?" Zuko sighed and grudgingly admitted she had a point.

"Do you like him?" He refused to answer.

"So you like him." He told her he reminded him of Zhao. He didn't want another Zhao.

"Jet's a maniacal, lying, controlling, jackass?" No, but he was charismatic, like Zhao. She was silent for a good minute.

"Did that sound as stupid on your end as it did mine?" _No_.

"Zuko, I love you. You know I want you to be happy. Jet had a dumdum moment. Don't you wish your dumdum moments were forgiven?" Ouch. She had a point.

"You aren't in UBU anymore. You are hundreds of miles away from it. I know you don't want another Zhao incident, but MU knew what happened at UBU and they _still_ accepted you. The only thing keeping you away from Jet is your fear of being hurt. Has he really _hurt_ you?"

Zuko spent the rest of the night and all of the next day to think over what she said. He also thought about everything else; his father, his uncle, Zhao, UBU, the ethics committee, and his short time at MU. Mai had mentioned something about a blessing in disguise before the end of their conversation. Maybe she was right. He had more fun in the last half year (including his time with his uncle) than his whole time at home and at UBU, even with the drama. Without realizing it, he had begun to move on. He left Iroh's safety for a new school and he had the beginnings of great friends. He still had countless familial issues that might never go away, but he could still continue down his road of self recovery. And he could start with Jet. But how could he approach him after telling him he didn't want to see his face?

Lucky for him, Jet wasn't that patient of a person. And now, Zuko was left with one burning question.

"What are we?" He spoke suddenly. Jet jerked; obviously he'd been drifting asleep. His stilled fingers began moving through his hair again.

"What do you mean?"

"Us. There is clearly something between us." Jet was silent for a moment.

"What do want us to be?" Zuko could only shrug. He didn't want to be the first to say it. Again, Jet took the lead.

"I'm not going to lie. I like you. I think I liked you from the moment I saw you walk into the lobby." He smirked, "You were _so_l ost." Zuko scoffed, "I wasn't lost- just _overwhelmed_. "

"Uh-huh. Either way, you stuck out like a sore thumb."

"You were weird, and I didn't mind." Jet laughed loudly. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You should." He replied, changing his position so he lay on his side, looking out the window again. Jet shifted too, Zuko's back pillowing his head.

"So I guess I have to take you out on a date?" Jet asked, hands finding warmth under Zuko's shirt. It was fall, but the building manager still hadn't turned off the AC.

"Somethin' like that." Zuko mumbled. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

--

He didn't know what woke him up, but he was surprised to find that he'd slept for four hours. It was the longest he'd slept in a long while. He tried to move, only to find that Jet had him wrapped in an octopus like grip, legs and arms pinning him to the bed. Ever so slowly, without waking his bed mate, he untangled himself. Jet just sighed and turned slightly. He removed his uncomfortable button down shirt and jeans and replaced them with a t-shirt and old boxer shorts.

He crawled back in his bed and slipped under the covers. He figured when Jet got cold enough, he'd find his way there too. Jet had mentioned something about a Pride club. He wanted Zuko to go with him tomorrow night. Zuko wasn't too thrilled about its implications, but he was excited to see something new- with Jet. Jet was offering something that Zhao or any other person hadn't offered him, intimacy. Zuko smiled as he felt Jet's arms around him under the covers. It hadn't taken him long to seek out the heat of Zuko's body. His breath was warm on the back of Zuko's neck as he mumbled something about stupid building managers.

Zuko knew he wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight, four hours was amazing enough. But he was content to lay with the heat of Jet's body behind him and the city lights before him. Zuko was finally beginning to accept his new life, and he was happy. As a side thought, he _really_ needed to get Mai out here…

--

**The End. Thanks for reading! As always, comments and crticisms (Please help me become a better author!) are welcomed.**


	2. For All the Whiskey

**Title: For All the Whiskey  
Author: RueB****  
****Summary: Jet wants to visit an exclusive lounge. Zuko is confronted with his past lifestyle. Jetko.**

**A/N: Thank you to my beta, Allieweasley. Couldn't have done it without her ;o)**

--

"I have the _greatest_ idea in the world."

"Hey Jet." Zuko smiled from behind the cashier's counter. It was always nice when his boyfriend walked him home from work, even though it was usually to try to get free food.

Zuko, being forced to find work due to low funds, found a hosting gig downtown in the shopping district; Vista was what they called it. The only prior experience he had was with his uncle at the tea shop, but they hired him immediately when they found he'd spent two years at UBU (and his last name). His interviewers cited that finding workers with knowledge of high end clients was sparse. The head manager also liked his face. This being the fashion district, they needed someone who could blend into the trendsetting atmosphere, and apparently Zuko had a pretty face.

With his pretty face, they transformed him into a walking representation of _Vista_. His uniform looked to have cost more than what he paid for textbooks. Dark gray trousers with inch cuffs, a white three-fourths length sleeved shirt, and a pair of white-grey crocodile shoes completed his look. They also gave him faux reading glasses, and a silver block bracelet- something about _accessorizing makes the outfit_.

They requested he get a new style for his hair. Rumor had it that ponytails were out of style. His manager _suggested_ an edgy asymmetrical haircut; bangs now hung in his face, partially spiked, and cut slightly shorter in the back. He'd sulked for a good week before accepting the new do. And when he saw another new hire's makeover, he appreciated his. Jack was his name, and they made him _bleach_ his hair.

Zuko truly felt like a pansy, but he needed the money. _Vista_was paying him five times the minimum wage, so it was worth whatever they did. In reality, he only had to wear it for work. Plus, Jet seemed to like his updated look. He even went so far as to call him his arm candy. Zuko wouldn't admit to anyone, but he secretly liked the little sentiment.

For the past two months, every Wednesday, Friday night, and Saturday, Zuko would seat the crème de la crème of Metropolis. It gave him a bittersweet feeling. The restaurant reminded him of his old life. He, Zhao and his other Tau brothers had always frequented high end eateries. It was a part of life at UBU. It was different being on the other side of the hostess stand, seating instead of being seated. But it gave him solace to be close to something so familiar in this time of change.

Waving to his manager and the waiters, Zuko lead Jet out the lighted double glass doors. Jet turned and waved to the guys too. Zuko's workmates were very familiar with brown shock of hair. Jet would sometimes hang out in the back kitchen while Zuko finished business upfront. How Jet persuaded his managers not to kick him out was beyond Zuko. He chalked it up to what he affectionately termed _Jet Charm_. When Jet gave that little half smile around the toothpick that always found itself in the corner of his mouth, it was like kryptonite to the average person. No one could resist Jet Charm, except Zuko that is.

"You look haawwwt." Jet complimented, throwing his arm around the other's shoulders. Zuko blushed. He could get used to public displays of affection, he could get used to spiking his hair before work, but he would never get used to Jet's compliments. No one had ever explicitly expressed attraction towards him and he didn't know how to react.

What an odd couple they made. One boy was pale and demure, the poster child of the Brooks Brothers, the other tan and laughing. His tees, pants, and hoodies never quite matched, but he was _Jet_. He made everything look good.

"Thanks. What is your brilliant plan?" Zuko knew he shouldn't encourage Jet's imagination, but he was entertaining.

"We should go to one of those rich good ole' boys clubs for drinks." Zuko gave Jet a sidelong look as they boarded the subway. The car was crowed and they had to stand. "Why would you want to do that?" His body jerked into Jet's as the car sped towards the next stop. Jet steadied him, keeping his hand on Zuko's hip.

"I don't know. It'd be fun. All the guys could come. We could dress up real nice and act like we have money! We'd be, like, incognito and shit…"  
"But- _why_?" Jet shrugged his shoulders, eyes momentarily following a fly near the window. "Come on Zu. It'd be fun! You could teach us how to act proper and stuff. It's not like we have anything to do Saturday night anyways." Zuko thought it over and feeling of dread slowly entered him. He didn't want to do it, but-- he was trying new things. And Jet's ideas were usually good. He _usually_ had fun. Taking a little breath, he conceded.

"Okay." Jet's smile widened as he gave Zuko a quick peck on his cheek. "It's gonna be fun! You'll see. I'll ask that gang when we get back." Zuko secretly hoped no one would be up when they got back. It was already a little past midnight. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that they'd be awake. Floor Ba Sing Se didn't know the meaning of sleep.

--

"Why did I even come? This is _ridiculous_. You know we are just feeding into the hand of our oppressive capitalistic society!" Katara exclaimed, arms crossing against her chest. This was not the first time she'd expressed such sentiment and it was starting to get on his nerves. Zuko didn't know why she decided to come anyway.

He and Katara didn't exactly get along. The first thing she said to him when they were introduced was "Aren't you Ozai Suì's son?" She then entered into a tirade of what the Suì family has done with the government and how they are helping fund the war and some conspiracy against the poor. Zuko didn't have the best relationship with his father, but he wasn't going to listen to her slander the name of his family. He told her as much and they ended up yelling at each other for the next quarter hour. He tried to defend the decisions of his family and their arms business, but that was only until she commented on his transfer to MU. According to her, his father couldn't have cared for him if he allowed Zuko to downgrade his education.

Zuko had been at a crossroad. Should he have defended his father or conceded to her point? She didn't know how right she was, but that didn't mean she had the right to say it. After all, they had just met. Zuko chose neither. He fell back onto the one familiar emotion that never failed him; anger.

Zuko hated that argument because he'd played right into her stereotype of him. He'd been so mad he called her a working class trash charity case. He'd told her that she was just jealous that her family didn't have the wealth of his and she should go back to the poor crack-whore mother she came from.

The gang stared at him, shocked as Jet dragged him out of the room, insults still spewing from his mouth. He'd seen the tears forming in Katara's eyes, but he was past caring. The little bitch had no right to bring up his relations with his father. Jet tried to defend her, tried to tell Zuko of her past and the death of her mother, but he wasn't in the mindset to care.

It wasn't until he and Sokka's conversation a few days later that Zuko began to regret his choice of words. He hated to waste his guilt on the blue eyed devil, but he did, and he apologized. She didn't apologize for _her_words; for she thought they were justified. He just prayed that Katara knew how valuable her brother really was. If Sokka hadn't talked to him, he wouldn't have given a second thought of what he said to her. But he did learn to bite his tongue (literally) when she was around.

"Don't worry. She _has_to say that so she doesn't feel bad about the fun we're going to have." Sokka clued the rest of the group in the inner workings of his sister. She punched his arm, and he retaliated by pulling her hair. Zuko was secretly jealous of their relationship. This was how siblings normally acted, he'd been learning. He barely knew his own sister, Azula, much less interacted with her. They were both sent to separate boarding schools at young ages. He wasn't even in the same state when she was born and their schedules never allowed them much time to be around each other.

"Guys, quit it. We're almost there. You can't play like that if we want to pull this off." Aang, with the most abstract look of them all, was taking their 'mission' quite seriously. Zuko had a suspicion that Aang was worried they would either be denied entrance, or kicked out once inside the plush lounge. Zuko couldn't deny one of the two might happen, but it was entertaining seeing the boy act so out of character. Sokka pouted, "Rich guys are no fun."

"It's right up the block, corner of Feng and Eighth." Zuko's finger tightened around the pant belt loop of Jet, nearly pulling the other to a stop. "Are you sure? You know everything on Feng is expensive as hell."

"It's only a drink. What's the most it can cost?" Zuko fingered the card slip in his pocket, hoping he didn't have to use the last thing that connected him to his family.

--

Entering the chosen lounge was like stepping back in time for Zuko. Instead of Jet, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and the ever silent Long; Zhao, Mai, and the other members of his former brotherhood flanked him. The interior was dark, dimmed golden chandeliers reflected off the marble floor in a soft glow. Mahogany chair railings bordered the walls, giving the room an old 1920's feel. There weren't a lot of patrons. Three of fifteen tables were occupied, and only two men sat at the mirrored bar. But it was early, only nine in the evening. There would be more customers later in the night as they returned from shopping.

Sokka leaned into Zuko, whispering in his ear, "I don't think this going to work." He was about to reply when the hostess walked up to the group, heels clapping against stone announcing her arrival. She was a pretty little thing, blonde with sharp green eyes. Her mouth lost its smile as she surveyed the group in front of her.

"How can I help you?" Her voice sounded too sweet, even for a member of the wait staff.

"Yeah, can we get a table or something?" was Jet's reply. Zuko cringed. That wasn't really helping their image, not in the eyes of the hostess-- her name tag read Betty. "You do know entrees start at fifty dollars, and gratuity is added for tables of four or more."

Again, her tone was sickly sweet with a fake smile. They weren't welcomed here. Zuko felt a bit of anger in his chest. How dare she look down at them from her nose? She was about to find out who served who here.

Stepping into view from behind Jet, he waited for _Betty_to acknowledge him. He noticed her eyes widen as she saw him, a slight 'oh' escaped her lips. Zuko could _feel_ his nose rise, just an inch, just to let her know he was looking down at her. With one hand in his pocket, back straight and shoulders squared, he knew that she knew he belonged. And in case she was slow, "I hope it doesn't usually take you this long to seat a party. If it is, you might want to find yourself another career."

Instead of waiting for her to collect herself, he walked past the hostess booth to a table that could sit all six of them. The gang followed, Zuko's display leaving no room for argument. The hostess scurried around the table, placing menus before each of them. She mumbled a quick apology when giving Zuko his menu. He simply waved her away with a slight motion of the hand.

"Did you see the way she looked at us? I _knew_this was a bad idea." Katara started the beginning of her rant against the richest one percent of the nation. Jet placed a kiss against Zuko's cheek, "That was _great_." Zuko snorted.

"Good evening, Gentlemen, ma'am; my name is Justin and I will be your server for the evening." The waiter was very prompt in his arrival. Zuko suspected Betty was trying to earn points with him.

"Can I interest you with a starter; a soup or a salad perhaps?" he spoke directly to Zuko, but Aang answered.

"I think we are just going to get drinks." Justin raised his eyebrow and turned back to Zuko who gave a short nod. "I'll be right back with the drink menu."

"It's really nice in here. I wonder how much these glasses cost. They look like crystal!" Jet laughed as Sokka inspected the table ware. "I think that glass is worth everything in my room."

"You think they'd notice if we took one? I could pay next semester's tuition with this thing!" And thus began their conversation of what as worth what. Zuko sighed as he quickly looked around the lounge. Did they have to be so loud? While his table mates were dressed in their best wears, their behavior seriously needed upgrading.

Zuko was relieved when Justin finally arrived with the menu. "These are our specialties; however, we can make anything you'd like upon request." Zuko nodded as he passed the menu to Jet, who passed it to Katara.

"I think I know what I want. Can I get a whiskey and coke?" The waiter gave Jet an amused look, lips forming into a smirk. "What kind of whiskey, Jack?" Jet just nodded. "Yeah, that's good." He didn't get it, Zuko thought. The waiter was making fun of him; of his choice of low grade _American_malt. As the waiter began to write Jet's order, Zuko cleared his throat.

"No." Justin looked to him, head slightly tilted.

"No," he repeated, his voice crisp, "He'll get it with Brora." Justin's eyebrows rose past his hairline. "Sir, do you kno-"

"Don't patronize me; aged nineteen years. I'm sure an establishment of this sort can accommodate me?"

"Yes, sir,"

"I would like the same, straight, half a glass of ice."

"Yes, sir,"

"Give the others time to decide, but don't wander too far."

"Yes, sir,"

Jet opened his mouth to comment, but Zuko beat him to it. Leaning over to him, "In the future, you should leave the talking to _me_." The table silenced. Jet stared at Zuko like he'd grown another head. He was acting different. He was…not the Zuko he knew. He was Zuko, son of Ozai Suì, rude, condescending and cold. Maybe this _wasn't_such a good idea. Jet eyed the rest of the table. Katara was glaring at _Mr. Suì_, Aang and Sokka shared the drink menu, finding it exceptionally interesting, and Longshot was looking to him. He tilted his head. _Everything okay? _Jet could only shrug his shoulders.

Zuko didn't seem to mind the silence, or the glares. In all honesty, he wasn't aware of the tension he'd created. He was content, he was in his _element_. He _knew_ this; he knew where he stood in relation to others. He knew what to say, how to act. Betty, Justin; they were a part of the wait staff. And him, he was in control. They did his biding. He didn't have to worry about hurting someone's feelings, or arguing, or figuring who liked who or what. It was simple and familiar. So he sat, waiting for the manager he knew Justin would call, face blank but happily living in a piece of his old life.

As he predicted, a white haired man in a full suit came to their table. He introduced himself as the manager and explained his presence.

"Sir, you have requested a quite rare whiskey. I am going to have to ask you to pay in advance." Zuko knew the portly man didn't think he could. Jet tried to interrupt, telling the manager that a Jack and coke was fine. Zuko's raised a hand, effectively stopping his arguments. He passed his credit card and appropriate ID to the waiting man. Zuko waited for his reaction.

The manager inhaled deeply, growing slightly red. In his hands he held a black card, made of titanium, and inscribed with Zuko U. Suì. _Suì _was a powerful name that he knew well. He looked into the golden eyes of Zuko, then back to the card and ID, and back to the boy. It was every shop's dream to service a holder of the Black Card, for the card held bragging rights. Green was the color of money, but black was the color of royalty.

"I am terribly sorry, Sir. I was not expecting a member of the Suì family." Zuko nodded, accepting the card back from the manager.

"Please, this table is not the best we offer. We own a private room on the top floor. It has a fabulous view of the city horizon. Would you like us to move your party?" Zuko declined.

"Then please, accept the drinks and dinner, on the house. Our Executive Chef makes the most wonderful five ounce filet mignon, or maybe you would prefer the Seared yellow-fin tuna and crab stuffed Aji?"

"Filet mignon, medium rare- I should still see red. I expect to not have to wait for my Brora?"

--

The walk to the dorms was…awkward; at least to everyone except Zuko. He was still riding on the power his family's name rewarded him. His black card had gotten the whole group free drinks and dinner, very _expensive_drinks and dinner. The other members of the group dined like royalty, but they felt far from it. No one had uttered more than a phrase during dinner as the manager and his staff fawned over Zuko _Suì_. Jet was the quietest of all of them. _He_hadn't said a word since Zuko hushed him the second time. Even Zuko, his head peaking through Cloud 9, noticed his partner's odd behavior.

Coming from behind, he threw his arms around Jet's waist as they waited to cross the street. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, kissing the back of the other's neck. Jet shrugged him off and continued walking speeding ahead of the group. Zuko frowned. He asked Aang about Jet, but all he got was a shrugged shoulder. Aang wouldn't meet his gaze. Katara, however, decided to shed some light into Zuko's world.

"You're an ass." She declared, blue eyes burning bright. He was about to retaliate, but Sokka took his sister's arm and pulled her down a different block. He cited that they had to stop by the corner store, and Aang followed. Now it was just Zuko and Longshot, who didn't say a word. By this time Jet was out of sight, hidden in the midnight crowd. Zuko sighed. Making his way by the side of Long to the dorms, he got the terrible feeling that he really fucked up. But he was clueless of what he did.

Longshot didn't follow him to their floor, instead choosing to hang with Smeller who was working the night shift at the counter. He started to pull out his access card but realized he didn't need it. The door was opened already. What was going on? Jet never forgot to close the door. Said person was on the couch in the common area, arms crossed, previous blank face now absolutely livid. Making his way to the kitchen, Zuko grabbed some water before confronting his boyfriend.

"Jet, what's wrong; what's going on?"

"You're a fucking ass." Zuko nearly dropped his water. There was that phrase again. "What did I do? Katara said the same thing!" Jet glared at him, fisting his hands, "She was right." Zuko scoffed, "She's _never_ right-"

"Zuko, that's not the point! You were a dick tonight." Zuko threw his hands in the air. He was getting angry at the name calling. "What did I do? When? What are you _talking_ about?"

"At the lounge; you were fucking rude-- to _everyone_."

"I was just being me!" Jet shook his head.

"No--"

"_Yes_, isn't that why we were there; to play _rich boy_? We were having fun!"

"At what point was it fun? When you told me to shut up, or when you practically made the hostess cry? Or maybe it was when you pulled out that fancy card of yours and played _king_? Was whiskey really worth it?" Jet was standing now, hands and arms waved animatedly with every point he made, but his eyes never left Zuko's.

"Oh, I see what this is about. You're just--" Jet halted his words with a hand, reminiscent of Zuko's own actions earlier in the night. He was seething at the implication Zuko was about to make.

"Don't you fuckin' say it. You pulled that with Katara and you were about to use it on me. No one is _jealous_of you Zuko. We are your friends, I _love_you. This isn't about me, or Katara, or even that damn card. It's about _you_!" Zuko's body began to shake. He knew what was coming and he didn't want to hear it. But he couldn't take his eyes off Jet. Maybe he needed to hear it…

Running his hands through his hair, he began again. "Babe, you always talk about how much you hated your old life. You said you felt constricted and lonely and _not_ yourself. But the minute you have the chance, you turn into your father's son. You're conceited and nasty, and plain _stuck-up_." Jet held Zuko's face in his hands, forcing him to look in his eyes, "How can you move on if you don't _let go_ of the past."

No. Zuko closed his eyes. He didn't want to believe the truth of Jet's words. He tried to swallow, but his throat wouldn't allow it. He needed _air_. In a flurry of motion, he pushed Jet away and somehow he made his way down the stairs. He didn't wait for the elevator; couldn't. It would take too long, and he needed out now.

Running out the lobby, he thought he heard Long shout his name. He didn't stop. He pushed past Katara who was just stepping through the double doors. She gave him a sympathetic look. He must look a mess, hot tears streaming down his face. He didn't stop for her either. The lights that gave him so much comfort in his eighth story room now blurred and slurred through his tears.

--

He found himself on the subway. He didn't know where he was going--just away. No one questioned the odd boy, dressed in fine clothes, yet looking all a muddle. He just sat in the near vacant car, furthest from the doors.

The truth hurt.

Jet was right. Katara was right. He was wrong. He couldn't let go. He knew he would use the card, the minute Jet told him where he wanted to go. It was the last thing connecting him to his past life. His father didn't close the account, wouldn't ever close it. People would surely raise questions about his whereabouts if his father blocked him from family funds; and appearances were everything.

He wiped his face with his sleeve and took the card out of his card slip. It was tucked next to a picture of him and Jet, one of those five dollar snap shots. Jet had pulled him on his lap, kissing his neck while pinching his ass. As fate would have it, that's when the camera decided to click. His face was a mixture of surprise and lust-- but there was no denying he was happy. His smile was wide, and toothy.

He then looked to the card. The metal was cold against his hand. He'd always had it, even in childhood. It was a constant, but now it was causing trouble. Jet had never been as mad as he was tonight and he had every right to be. Zuko hadn't just been a prick, he demeaned his friends. He'd made them feel as if they were beneath him. If they were anyone else, he wouldn't care. But they were _real_friends; even Katara in her own way. But-- was he ready to give up his old life? Was he truly ready to let go of his card?

Maybe he wasn't looking at this right. Did he even have the choice to return to life before Zhao? His father was the one who let go of him. UBU let go of him. And now he was with someone who wouldn't let go, someone who thought he was arm candy, who accepted him for what he was. And suddenly it was very obvious; very clear.

Zuko exited the car at the next stop. According to the signs, he was somewhere on the east side of the city, far from his West side abode. Taking one last look at his Black card, he threw it on the tracks. Immediately it stuck to the magnetic strip.

He waited. A slight breeze blew through his hair as the next train rolled in and screeched to a halt. Doors opened, and people swarmed around him, but he didn't move. He wanted to be sure it was gone.

The subway car finally departed. The card was still stuck to the strip, but it was mangled beyond recognition. Zuko smiled, feeling accomplished. Wiping his face, drying his tears; he crossed the platform to the train going in the opposite way. It was time to go home.

--

By the time he reached the dorm, it was past three in the morning. He nodded to Smeller. If he looked as bad as he _felt_he looked, she didn't say a word about it. She just waved, giving him a small smile. Entering the apartment, he made a beeline to his room. He gathered his washing supplies. He needed to remove the sticky subway grim that seemed to stick to his skin. The showers were vacant and Zuko took his time. The hot water felt good against his skin. He scrubbed and scrubbed; washing away the sweat and tears, dust and sadness.

--

Fresh and smelling faintly of soap, he entered Jet's room. Jet was under the covers, faced away from the door. Zuko joined him, cuddling up to his back.

"Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah,"

"I'm sorry."

"I know." But did he? He had yet to shift his position, had yet looked at Zuko.

"I threw it away, the card. It wasn't worth it." That got Jet's attention. He turned to face the other boy. Zuko took the opportunity to bury his face in Jet's neck, arms wrapping around him.

"I love you, too." He mumbled in his skin, kissing it as emphasis.

"Really?" Jet smiled, running his hand through the silky black hair. It was a rare time when it wasn't stiff with hairspray.

"Yeah, forgive me?"

"I forgave you awhile ago. I was worried-- we all were." Zuko nodded in his shoulder.

"I'll make it up to you." Zuko then kissed him, cutting off whatever response Jet had.

Hands trailed his spine, down his back, and around his legs. It felt good to be home.

--  
**The End. Thank you for reading. As always, comments and criticisms are appreciated. **


	3. Ticklish

**A/N: Sorry guys, this isn't beta'd. There shouldn't be too many mistakes, but if you do notice something, please let me know.**

Ticklish

--

Zuko loved Jet. It was a fact as true and reliable as the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening. But, he thought to himself as he _again_ untangled his torso from the brown haired boy's grip, Jet could be the most annoying, _intrusive_, man he'd ever met. Once again, he was shocked out of slumber by a strayed hand griping one of his most sensitive areas. Well--not the _most _sensitive, but one of those places that when gripped, touched, or feathered took over all bodily function; extracting humiliating sounds and jerky movements in an instant. That area was located in different spots depending on the person. The small space between his waist and last three ribs was where Zuko was most vulnerable. He refused to use the word ticklish, because he wasn't. It was a sensitive region, period.

What was curious was as long as they'd been sharing a bed, only recently did he experience the misfortune of Jet's straying fingers. After wrapping his limbs around the pale boy, Jet was usually dead as a rock, only shifting when Zuko shifted. He sighed deeply through his nose as he smoothed his gray t-shirt to cover the exposed flesh, hoping to all that was holy that Jet's hands wouldn't find themselves under the cotton barrier again. As aggravating as it was to wake to such an unpleasant sensation, it would be impossibly embarrassing to wake Jet with the sharp yelps that sometimes escaped. What Jet would do with such information could possibly be detrimental to Zuko's health and general well being.

He rolled the slumbering boy on his stomach. With Zuko resting his head on Jet's back, there would be no possible way Jet could get him into a compromising position. He noted, as Jet's heartbeat lulled him back into sleep, that his breathing was slightly faster than it should have been.

--

Jet was being bad--_very_ bad. But it felt so _good_. Once again, Zuko's consistent snoring had woken him from his light slumber. Well, his non slumber might have had something more to do with the caffeine rich soda he'd taken habit to drinking before bed, and less to do with Zuko's light breathing. He snuggled to Zuko's overly warm body, pressing his lips against the back of his neck. Zuko was a peaceful sleeper. Where Jet would grab onto the first thing him limbs encountered, Zuko would curl into himself. Jet snorted, disturbing the hair on the nape of Zuko's neck and mentally corrected himself. Zuko slept in a tight ball when he wasn't snuggled up against Jet, head resting on some random part of his body, usually cutting off the circulation of blood. Not that Jet could complain as he was usually dead to the world.

This brings us to his current predicament. Jet was restless, bored, and slightly jealous of his slumbering boyfriend's--well-- slumber. Eyebrows arched in anticipation and his lips gave a side smirk. His fingers crept from their light rest on Zuko's hip to the area under his night shirt that was the sole source of Jet's nighttime entertainment. Getting Zuko to wake from his tickle grip was a gamble. He had to get him at the right time. If he waited too late, Zuko would be too deep in his R.E.M. cycle to react; too early and it would be obvious to the other boy what he was up to. Smirking one last time, he griped the flesh tightly, digging the tips of his fingers into the taunt skin.

The reaction was immediate. His once inactive partner sprang to life, bouncing the mattress with his quick movement and getting tangled in the sheets, trying to free himself from the offending sensation. A sharp raspy high pitched yelp echoed off the bedroom walls, followed quickly by Zuko's whispered curses. It was spectacular. The wide crazed eyes, the un-Zuko-ly scream, his heavy breath…it was more than Jet expected but was definitely welcomed. So enthralled in Zuko's reaction, he almost forgot to feign sleep. He closed his eyes, and tried to temper his breathing. He dug his face into his pillow to try and hide the smile that threatened to split his face.

It was all undone when in his confusion; Zuko fell off the bed in a tangled mess, taking most of the sheets with him. Jet tried, his eyes teared in restraint, but he couldn't hold his laughs in. Rolling on his back, he let it out, bold and bellowing, his laughter easily overshadowed Zuko's whispered curses and bumping in the night.

Once he started, he could not stop. Not when Zuko's head crested the mattress from his position on the floor, realizing that Jet was awake. Nor when he stood, sheets binding one arm to his side in a complicated knot, one arm loose and pointing accusingly towards him. He laughed harder at the glare Zuko gave him as he finally, with minimal success, stepped out the sheets but still looking a disheveled mess himself. His stomach starting hurting as his muscles contracted around his glee, not quite hearing the accusations thrown his way. He picked up something about being a jerk…knew all along…should kick his ass. When Zuko realized that nothing he said had any effect on Jet, he stood arm crossed and slightly pouting until the other regained his sanity.

"When?"

Jet shrugged his shoulders and motioned Zuko to join him in bed. Zuko eyed him warily, looking vulnerable and a bit mean…if it were possible. Jet smirked while trying to catch his breath.

"Co-come on, Zu. I'm n-not going to, ha, hurt you." Jet managed to get out between giggles. He bit his bottom lip, trying to put up a serious front to Zuko. It didn't work. If anything, Zuko took a step back, nearly leaned against the wide window; the lights from outside shadowing half his face.

"Stop laughing" Zuko demanded, "It wasn't that funny." His bottom lip curiously pushed out beyond that of his upper.

"Stop pretending you're hurt…and pull in that bottom lip before I suck it off." Immediately Zuko's lip disappeared into his mouth, an exact opposite of the pout he previously sported. He huffed and puffed, but eventually succumbed to the charming smile and wink from the brown haired man. Falling into his arms, he promised Jet that he would find a way to get him back. Jet rolled his eyes as he pulled the remaining blanket over both their forms. There wasn't anything Zuko could do to him that wasn't done before.

"So, how did you know?" Zuko mumbled against his neck. Jet scoffed, his fingers gently pinching Zuko's butt as a reminder of who he was dealing with.

"I'm Jet…I just know these things."

--

Needless to say, Jet didn't just know those things. It was a couple of instances where he noticed Zuko's reaction to certain touches. The first hint was not longer than two weeks ago. They'd just gotten back from celebrating Christmas _and_New Years with Zuko's Uncle Iroh. To Jet, that meant no sex for two weeks. So, naturally, the first thing they did when getting back to the apartment was _burn off _the holiday calories.

Zuko was splayed under him, pale skin glistening and glowing against the dark gray of the sheets and lights coming in from the window. His back arched, muscles stretching and retracting along his spin and shoulders as Jet moved against him. Jet bent over him, kissing the wet boney path and drawing wanton moans from his partner with the shift in angle.

Zuko's fingers clinched the sheets as he pushed against his lover rather hard, nearly knocking Jet off his knees on the edge of the bed. Trying to regain his grip he grabbed Zuko around his lower ribs. Jet remembered Zuko jerking to the side, away from his grip with a sharp grasp. He didn't think anything of it, but was stored in the back of his mind for the times when he was less occupied.

--

The next hint given to him came the very next day. Jet woke to an empty bed and the sound of slamming cabinet doors from the kitchen. He was ready to get up, but not quite ready to see what had Zuko so irritated as to make such loud noises. Obviously he was making a statement in a passive aggressive type of way, but Jet didn't want to take the bait. So instead, he made his way to the bathroom, taking care of personal business.

While emptying his bladder, he figured if his mouth was unusable he could buy time to figure how to smooth whatever he'd done to ruffle Zuko's feathers (because he just knew it was him, Smeller and Long hadn't gotten back from their break yet). He entered the kitchen, toothbrush and foamed paste lining his mouth to find Zuko hunched over the sink. Trying to look over his shoulder, he tapped Zuko's side, a physical indication to move over. Jet didn't know if Zuko hadn't known he was there, or was surprised with the contact but he jumped and nearly dropped the dish he was scrubbing so laboriously, catching a small grunt in his throat.

Again, Jet thought nothing of it. With one eyebrow raised he stood as Zuko complained about dishes this, and Smeller that, and something about leaving stuff to mold for so-and-so number of weeks. Jet really didn't catch all the details, instead brushing his teeth while admiring Zuko's Calvin Klein encased ass. Though, maybe he should have rethought spitting his paste residue in the freshly made dishwater. It wasn't worth Zuko's slap to the back of his head…

--

It wasn't until later in the week when Jet's late night soda treat came back to haunt him that he put one and one together. It was also when Jet first decided to experiment with his new found information on his unsuspecting _loving_ boyfriend.

--

Jet woke the next day feeling fantastic. Zuko now knew that Jet knew about his sensitive area (because Zuko forbade him to call him ticklish). Admittedly, it took the fun out of secretly knowing, but it was equally rewarding to see Zuko jump every time Jet moved towards him too quickly. This morning he dropped his bowl of cereal in route to the table because he thought Jet was going to attack him. All he was going to do was give his skittish boyfriend a morning peck, _seriously_.

Minus the fear of movement, Zuko hadn't been too angry with him. Considering Zuko could both hold a grudge and had a very explosive temper, Jet didn't know whether to accept his graciousness, or keep his guard up. Zuko _did _threaten revenge. But this was Zuko. What could they have taught him at that rich preppy school that could be of any harm to Jet? Whatever Zuko threw at him, he could take it. He was, if anything, a product of the streets.

--

A week later found Jet and Zuko sharing the yellow deteriorating couch watching a marathon of _SpongeBob_ cartoons. Jet rolled his eyes, throwing one leg across the lap of the other.

"Why are we watching this again? It's a rerun. We all know Plankton isn't getting the secret recipe to the Krabby Patty." Zuko just sighed, slouching a little more into the couch.

"I mean, it's so obvious what Plankton needs to do.", Jet continued, "He needs to get Sandy in on the action…use some of her sm--what?!" Zuko was staring at him, one brow raised above bright golden eyes, a slight smirk gracing his features.

"It is very disturbing that you are making plans for Plankton."

"Whatever, you're the one that wanted to watch it. I'm just saying-"Zuko waved him off. Jet frowned. Apparently Zuko found _Patrick_ more important than what he had to say. He almost gave into the urge to grab onto Zuko's unguarded side. He sighed, and instead lay back on the couch and continued to watch the pink starfish drool on himself.

An undignified yelp escaped his being as a totally unexpected fingernail slid along the length of the bottom of Jet's bare foot. Twisting his body, he found that the couch was too small for the action and fell to the floor with another yell, his foot still in the grip of Zuko. On his hands and knees, he tried to kick his foot out of its grasp, but Zuko's grip was too strong. All he could do was twist, looking to his attacker.

_Zuko_. Those amber eyes he loved so much had turned from light and innocent to dark and vengeful. That cute little smirk was now a sneer, and Jet was almost certain he heard a small growl.

"Zuko, this isn't--Ah!" Jet tried to warn his partner, but the sensation of another nail running down his foot cut him off.

"Payback is a bitch, Jet." Zuko taunted as he tickled his foot again and again, Jet alternating between yelling and laughing. Zuko's own laughter caused him to weaken his grip on Jet's foot, and he was finally able to get away by using his other foot as leverage. While Zuko laughed on the couch, grabbing his stomach and nearly falling himself, Jet crawled to the opposite side of the room, resting his back against the wall, next to the TV. He crossed his arms against his chest as he watched his lover enjoy his discomfort.

He frowned, torn between loving Zuko's unrestrained amusement and hating that the prep had, in fact, gotten him. He settled on hate for the moment, but _how_? How had Zuko known his deepest darkest secret of secrets? There were only two other people who knew of his particularly sensitive feet. Hearing front door open, he settled his glare on one of those said persons.

Longshot entered the apartment, black beanie hat and heavy coat still covered in the melting January snow. Not noticing Jet's intense stare, he made a beeline to the kitchen, depositing his grocery filled canvas bags on the counter. Not one to be ignored, Jet followed the other into the gallery kitchen, blocking Long's exit. Jet pointed accusingly at him.

"You told him, didn't you?" Long raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look, you told him about my feet!" Jet exclaimed, re-crossing his arms. Longshot's cheeks gained a rosy color as he shrugged a little refusing to look Jet in the eyes.

"I know he asked you, but why did you tell him?!" This time Long's brows rose past his damp bangs.

"What do you mean, '_he can be pretty persuasive_'?" By this time, Long was chewing on his bottom lip.

"He bribed you? Well, what did you get? What was worth my pride?" Smiling a toothy smile, the other boy rubbed the back of his neck.

"Candy?! Candy…as in there is a vending machine down the hallway that you can get yourself, _candy_? My _dignity _was worth candy." Zuko approached Jet from the back, hooking one thumb in the elastic band of Jet's Power Rangers boxers, the other hand wrapping around his chest.

"Stop being so dramatic," he chided Jet after kissing a spot behind his ear. "You know he has a sweet tooth." Jet rolled his eyes, well aware of Long's addiction to sugar. It was something the silent man had developed while he, Jet and Smeller were in the orphanage. Where Jet would write Santa for wooden swords and plastic gun, Long just wanted a bag of chocolate. He was just surprised that Zuko would use it as leverage. Turning in his embrace, he captured Zuko's lips with his own.

His sneaky snake boyfriend _had_ put his education to good use. He bribed and persuaded one of Jet's best friends to give him the advantage over him, clearly a politician at heart. He couldn't hold onto his ire as he stared into Zuko's orbs, light with laughter, even if it was at his own expense. As he gained entrance to Zuko's mouth, he was hit in the back of the head with a grape.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No making out in the kitchen." Long was such a _prude_. He followed Zuko to the yellow couch. This time laying his head on the lap, his feet far from Zuko's reach.

He wasn't giving up. He just had to work harder to one up Zuko. Uncle Iroh would definitely know and willingly give some embarrassing dirt on Zuko. All it'd take is one phone call and a promise of authentic organic tea leaves. Jet bit his lip to keep the smirk off his face, knowing it would give his sinister plans away.

He could call Mai. Her number was saved in his phone after she _somehow_ got his number. Though, after thinking over their conversation, he decided not to call Zuko's closest _overprotective _friend. He frowned. She had out right threatened his life if he hurt Zuko! Something about sharp objects in sensitive areas and not being able to find a body (he _really _needed to start paying attention when people spoke); but it was her casual monotone voice that scared him the most. He boldly claimed that she was jealous because she couldn't share his sexy body with Zuko. True, he feared for his well being through the whole minute she was silent, but it had been well worth the small smile he heard through the lines as she continued to warn his possible indiscretions.

Felling Zuko's fingers run through his hair, he figured he would call the uncle first before risking calling the girl. But for now, he'd enjoy SpongeBob while trying to shake the tingle out his foot.


End file.
